


lunam et familia

by avatraang



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Tokka Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26413606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatraang/pseuds/avatraang
Summary: Sokka turns away from him, illuminated by moonlight. “Yeah, well, what does she know?” He snaps, bitter. “She left her family for duty, too.”The waves crash. They sound defeated.[Toph and Sokka explore what family can be, with a little help from Yue. Written for Tokka Week 2020, Day 6: Moonlight, Family. Oneshot.]
Relationships: Aang & Sokka (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Lin Beifong & Sokka, Lin Beifong & Toph Beifong, Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (past), Suyin Beifong & Sokka, Suyin Beifong & Toph Beifong, Toph Beifong & Katara, Toph Beifong & Zuko, Toph Beifong/Sokka
Comments: 12
Kudos: 143





	lunam et familia

**Author's Note:**

> Tokka Week 2020, Day 6: Family, Moonlight. I actually managed to fit in both prompts, woohoo! This fic is directly inspired by my wonderful beta, @CameraLux(TinCanTelephone). Make sure to check out her works! And also, check me out on tumblr: @avatraang.
> 
> For maximum feels, listen to this song: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNvk80XY9s](url) "Saturn" by Sleeping at Last. The first verse especially will give you feels when combined with the fic!
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy.

> _The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves._ _  
> __It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do.  
>  Every day it’s a different version of itself. _ _  
> __Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light._ _  
> __The moon understands what it means to be human._ _  
> __Uncertain. Alone._ _  
> __Cratered by imperfections._

**―** **Tahereh Mafi.**

* * *

_17._

Sokka is sitting at the edge of the temple side when Toph finds him. They are resting at the Western Air Temple, taking a break from diplomacy trips that Aang had roped them into. His feet are swinging over the edge, palms planted flat on the ground, head tilted up towards what she supposes “seeing” folk perceive to be moonlight. Everyone else is fast asleep, deep within the temple walls, except for him. Toph moves to step towards him, to ask Sokka why he’s still awake, but then she hears him speak.

“… Sometimes I feel like we didn’t really win.” Sokka’s voice is heavy; for a seventeen year old, he sounds exhausted. “It’s like– Aang defeated Ozai, but for what? This battle isn’t ending.” Sokka kicks his feet against the rocks of the cliff.

She can feel his fingernails digging into the soft earth, pulling strands of grass up and flinging it over the temple. Toph hears it fall, until the sound fades, and only Sokka’s voice is heard.

“As soon as one dilemma is resolved, another one pops up. We’re just kids, Yue. We shouldn’t have to deal with this.” He inhales sharply. _“You_ were just a kid. You shouldn’t have had to do what you did. You shouldn’t have had to… leave.” The wind blows by, and Sokka settles back into silence. Almost like he’s listening.

Toph’s heard the stories. Aang told her once, on a blue moon night. Appa hadn’t been feeling well; Katara was up late giving him a healing session. Sokka had gone off, away from them all, to _meditate._ Toph remembers how strange it had been to hear Sokka speak of meditating. For all his abilities, she had never known Sokka as one to converse with the spirits. Aang’s tone had been culpable, as if what he was about to tell her was all his fault.

“The full moon is when she’s closest to him,” Aang had told her. He fidgeted with his glider.

Toph had scowled. “To who?” She settled next to Aang, listening to Appa’s heartbeat as Katara worked on him.

“Yue.” Aang said, and he told her the moon spirit’s story.

She hears Sokka stir; coming back to the present. “I _know_ destiny is a funny thing, I do. But that doesn’t mean it’s _fair.”_ His voice is steady; he doesn’t sound heartbroken. Just thoughtful. “I get that all we can do in life is make do with the time that is given to us. I get that all we can do is commandeer it and make it our own, but… I don’t know. I wish I was as brave as you.” Sokka’s hands stop playing with the dirt. “I wish you were here to teach me. Even just as a friend.”

Toph feels the temperature drop. She supposes that means that the moon’s hidden behind clouds. A shiver runs its way through her body.

“I miss you, Yue.” Sokka says. The silence falls around him again.

Toph turns around and walks back to her room. Toph’s heard the stories. She leaves him to his legends, and falls asleep to dreams of a spirit she’s never met, who stole her best friend’s heart long before he knew he had a heart to give.

* * *

_23._

What is family? Toph supposes she was never truly taught. Katara had attempted, once, to teach her. It had been a cold autumn day. Toph had felt the temperature drop, warning her of oncoming winter.

“Family is dependable people. It’s those you are sure of, in a good way.” Her left wrist had hovered over the pot in which she’d been brewing some stew, and she flicked it occasionally. “Family is people who won’t leave when you mess up, or when they’re mad at you. It’s thick and thin. Family is...” Katara had jutted her hip out, her right hand rubbing her neck, “It’s everything.” Katara smiled.

Toph had not.

Now, as Toph’s robes are tied up and her hair falls in coils around her, she thinks that maybe family can be made. Maybe that’s what marriage is – what it’s _supposed_ to be. Bitterly, Toph remembers her parents’ marriage; that was less of a family and more like an alliance. But, as Katara hands Toph her bouquet, she allows Katara and Aang to give her hope. That maybe families _can_ be made. And maybe she is a part of theirs.

At the reception, Sokka manages to persuade her into a dance. He is twenty-three and stronger than he’s ever been, his heartbeat thrumming through her body even though her feet are encased in shoes. The cold of the South Pole doesn’t feel as unforgiving when he speaks. His voice warms her, body, mind, and soul.

“I didn’t really believe in soulmates,” Sokka confides in her. “Not until I saw them.” He sounds melancholy.

“Yeah, they’re something, alright.” Toph concedes. He spins her around. Her skirts flow gracefully. “They’re the lucky ones.” Her tone comes out a little more bitter than she’d intended.

“Oh?” The song ends; she allows Sokka to lead her towards where she knows the bar is located.

“Not everyone in life finds their… _soulmate,_ so easily.” Toph lifts her skirt with one hand, and entwines her other hand with Sokka’s. She thinks nothing of it; it’s as natural as breathing.

“Tell me about it.” Sokka swallows. Toph doesn’t comment, but she feels him look up, presumably through a window. Zuko had mentioned the moon being especially full tonight.

No, Toph was never truly taught about family. But, as Sokka orders her some Fire Lily Whiskey (neat), Toph allows herself to think that maybe she was lucky enough to have found family, regardless.

* * *

_29._

No one knows where to find Sokka, after the funeral. Katara searches high and low, worried beyond belief. Zuko pretends he’s not anxious, but gets up in the middle of the night to look for him too. Aang sets out in the early morning to find him, but Toph stops him. She sets a hand on his shoulder, steadfast and strong.

“I know where he is.”

“Then tell us!” Aang says. His voice is hushed in the light of the rising sun. But still, his timber is deep, commanding, ever-present.

“Leave him alone.” Toph shakes her head. “Tell Katara and Zuko to relax. I’ve got him covered.” Her voice matches his own whispered confidence.

Aang stares at her. “Alright.” He concedes. Turning around to find his wife and best friend, Aang disappears. The wind carries him away.

She feels his footsteps retreat, light and airy, racing across the courtyard and into the massive walls of the Kyoshi Warriors’ compound. Zuko told her that it was once a small place, but just like the rest of the world, Kyoshi Island has changed, as well. Large corridors wind through the intruding building, earthbent by folks who even Toph was impressed by.

Moving with the shadows, Toph follows the setting moon, away from the heat of the rising sun. She can feel someone moving in the kitchen, and knows it’s Iroh, getting tea ready for everyone. Awake before the cooks, as per usual.

She chases it all the way to the beach, where Toph was told Aang once commandeered a whole Unagi. Once at the beach, Toph takes a right and wanders, until the terrain turns rocky. Climbing over the rocks, she finds an old, weathered path. It leads her up to a small altar, which Sokka told her belonged to Avatar Kyoshi. She finds him there, facing her, eyes closed. Sokka is sitting cross-legged, scarred and exhausted, battle hardened and broken. His shoulders are slouched.

She knows that he’s aware of her presence, but he ignores her. Toph hears the waves crash, a little ways below them.

“It never gets easier.” He’s not talking to her. “It never gets easier, when people leave.” There’s a broken tone to his voice. _But then,_ Toph figures, _why would there not be?_

She swallows. Toph can still feel the lifelessness of Suki’s body. She’d been the one to pick her up, as Zuko and Aang had torn Sokka away from her. After Katara had done everything she could. Toph had been the one to carry Suki back to civilization, had felt the skin of her body (not but dust) harden and crack, ever so slowly. Had felt it go from warm to cold.

“We’d been broken up for years,” Sokka continues, still not speaking to Toph. “But that doesn’t make it easier. She was still my friend. She was still the best of us. And she shouldn’t – be – gone.” The last words are tense. Sokka’s bad leg twitches.

Toph sits down behind him, feet planted firmly on the ground, ready to defend him in the way she couldn’t help Suki defend herself. For once in her life, Toph had been too slow. She would not be making the same mistake twice.

“I can barely picture my mom’s face, I can barely picture _yours.”_ Sokka swallows. “What if I forget hers?” A bit of ocean sprays Toph’s face. The waves must have hit especially hard against the rocks below them.

Warmth reaches her skin; the moon will be gone soon. The waves crash, louder than they’d been a moment ago. Toph hears them splash against the shore, insistent. _What do they want to say?_ Toph cannot but wonder.

Sokka cranes his neck. “I know I’m not alone,” he says. “So why does it feel like I am? Why did it have to be her? Why couldn’t it be me? Who here needs me?” The crashing grows louder, and before Toph knows it, the water meets her in a hard wave. Sokka’s body falls on top of her’s, his breath hot against her nose. All at once, the waves quiet down.

There’s a moment of silence, as understanding dawns on them both.

_Why couldn’t it be me?_

“Oh,” Sokka says.

Toph blinks up at him, unmoving.

_Who here needs me?_

The sun is warm. Toph thinks back to Suki’s cold skin, and shivers as Sokka takes her hand in his. She says nothing, but she does think that this Yue girl must have had a funny sense of humor.

* * *

_40._

Lin is hope personified. At least, she is to Toph. She is the hope that Aang and Katara had given her, of forming your own family. Toph holds Lin and thinks that maybe she can have good things.

Toph feels Sokka hold Lin, and thinks that maybe she can have the _best_ things. Sokka is thirty-five and slowly losing his once boundless energy, but the life is still there.

When she comes home from work, he’s there, cooking dinner as Lin rants about what her life was like that day. His footsteps are steady as he follows Lin, who jumps into Toph’s arms to greet her. Kissing Toph’s forehead, Sokka and Lin both tell Toph about their day. Lin, usually shy in public, is a nonstop ball of energy when it’s just her, Toph, and Sokka. She’s four and full of life. Toph doesn’t really have the energy for Lin’s silliness, but Sokka does. Sokka always does.

“Mama,” Lin begins, “look at what I drew today.” She slides a wrinkled piece of paper over to Toph, who bites back a smile.

“Wow,” Toph nods, appreciatively. “It’s beautiful, baby.”

“You didn’t even look!” Lin pouts.

Toph feels Sokka stifle a laugh. She kicks him under the table. Sokka flinches; his hand flies down to his shin, stifling a groan. Lin looks at him, confused.

He stills immediately. “Hey, badgermole,” Sokka gently takes the paper from Toph. “Remember that special condition your mom has?”

Lin raises a delicate brow at Sokka. “Yeah, she’s blind.”

“So that means she can’t see your drawing, baby.” Sokka inspects Lin’s art. “Even though it’s super awesome. I’m gonna put this in my office.”

“Hey!” Toph objects, _“I_ want that in _my_ office.”

Sokka’s eyes narrow. He’s prepared to fight about this.

Lin intervenes. “But how come Mommy always knows when my room’s dirty? If she can’t see?”

“I see with my feet,” Toph explains, for what feels like the millionth time. Toddlers really have a hard time grasping the concept of Seismic Sense. “So I can see your messy room, because we have stone floors. But I can’t see anything on a sheet of paper, because it’s not on stone.”

Lin looks at her mother, unimpressed. “Why don’t you just see? That sounds not smart.”

Toph stares. “Gee,” she says, as if her daughter is twenty-four and not four, “You’re so smart, Linny. How did I not think of that?”

Lin shrugs. “I dunno.” She shovels food in her mouth.

Sokka can’t control himself any more; he howls in laughter, ignoring Toph’s fuming look, and relishing in Lin’s dumbfounded stare.

Later on, once Lin is asleep, Sokka curls up in bed next to Toph. “Why don’t you just see?” He snickers at her. The punch he receives is deserved, but it still hurts.

“You’re the _worst.”_ Toph grumbles.

“I know you love me.” Sokka sticks his tongue out at her, smug as ever.

She rolls her eyes, “Do I, though? Do I really?” She kisses him, firmly, and then releases, resting into him. “I do.”

Toph’s not quite sure when they began, her and Sokka. Sokka isn’t, either. But Toph does know that it came as naturally as breathing. Some things in life just make sense, and none more so than them. If Lin is the hope that Toph can have the dream that Aang and Katara had given her, then Sokka is the confirmation.

As he falls asleep next to her, Toph feels the cool air that night brings, and wonders if the moon is full. She wonders if that spirit, Yue, is there, watching down on them, wishing them well.

* * *

_48._

At six and twelve, Sokka is the only father that Lin and Suyin Beifong have ever known. He is the only man that Toph has ever loved so ardently, and he is the only person to not realize how heavily the Beifong clan has come to depend on him.

He’s forty-eight and lost again. It’s funny, Sokka’s never stopped to notice just how strange life is. It’s all one big mood after another, and all one can do is roll with the punches.

His father is on his deathbed. It’s his turn to lead the tribe.

Aang sits next to him, feet dangling off the tree where they both sit, the moon full and radiant, above them. “You still have time. You can find someone else.” Aang persists, voice pleading.

“This is my destiny.” Sokka shakes his head, “My family has done this for generations. I can’t just let the tradition die.” Clouds cover the moon, but Sokka can still see her moonlight through the thin layers of fog.

 _“You_ make your _own_ destiny!” Aang cries, frustrated. “You walk your own path! Sokka, don’t leave. This is not what you want. I’m your brother. I _know_ you.” He swallows, his robes rippling in the wind. “You don’t want to leave. You feel as if you _have_ to leave. This isn’t going to end well, please, Sokka. Don’t leave. Train someone else, one of your father’s most trusted advisors. Don’t go. This city needs you, Sokka. These people need you. We need you.” Aang wavers. In a fit of bravery (or maybe recklessness), he says, “Your girls, Sokka. Your girls need you.”

And there it is, the one thing that both breaks and mends him. Sokka’s head snaps in Aang’s direction, just as the clouds move away from the moon. In the moonlight, Sokka’s eyes glint dangerously. “Don’t you bring them into this, Aang.” His voice is sharp, “Don’t you _dare.”_

“Those are your _kids-”_

“Yeah, well, _you_ haven’t exactly been a stand up father, either.” Sokka’s words are cutting. He regrets it immediately, but, to his surprise, Aang doesn’t falter.

“I know.” His voice meets the night, defeated. “That’s why I’m begging you. Don’t make my mistakes.” He looks away from his brother-in-law. “Don’t share my regrets. It’s a weight that will carry you into an early grave.” The water of Yue Bay, far below them, seems to shiver at the Avatar’s heavy omission.

They’re both silent for a long while. Sokka thinks of Toph, asleep in their bed, alone. He thinks of Lin, and wonders who will help her with her writing homework once he goes. Finally, he thinks of Su, the spitting image of him. She falls asleep in his arms almost every night. How will she sleep, once he’s gone? His girls are the best of him. His girls are all of him.

As if hearing his thoughts, the moon’s light shines a bit brighter.

But then, Sokka thinks of his father, and his tribe, and how all he wanted as a child was to make his father happy in following in his footsteps. Some decisions aren’t easy, Sokka thinks. But they have to be made, regardless. For the greater good.

All at once, the night seems to darken. Sokka shivers. “Don’t be disappointed in me,” he mutters. The atmosphere doesn’t change. It still feels heavy against his skin.

If Aang thinks he’s talking to him, he doesn’t let on. Instead, Aang sighs. “She agrees with me.”

Sokka turns away from him, illuminated by moonlight. “Yeah, well, what does she know?” He snaps, bitter. “She left her family for duty, too.”

The waves crash. They sound defeated.

* * *

_50._

Toph feels the heaviness in her heart at the knowledge that she hasn’t seen the love of her life in two years, since Iroh’s funeral. It makes the earth that clings to her skin feel strange. Weighted.

“I want to be angry at him,” Toph tells Zuko one day, during a semi-spontaneous visit. “I want to be so mad that I forget the way I feel.” She throws her bracelet up in the air, memories of their relationship chasing it.

“That’s not how love works,” Zuko says, next to her. The night sky is blanketed over them, but no stars are visible. Not that Toph knows this. The only thing that can be seen is the moon, full and strong. It makes Zuko’s fire feel a little fainter.

“I don’t think he loved me,” Toph admits. It’s the first time she’s voiced that thought out loud.

“Don’t be stupid.” Zuko rolls his eyes, “He loves you to this day.”

“Then why didn’t he come back?” Toph’s voice cracks. She hides her face from Zuko, but he turns towards her and pulls her to him anyway. The wedding band on his finger shines; Toph thinks that out of all her friends, maybe Zuko understands her pain the best. She lets him hold her.

“Sometimes, people confuse duty for destiny.” Zuko swallows. “They confuse honor for happiness. It’s not easy to right that train of thought.” His grip on her tightens. “I would know.” The moon shines. Zuko thinks of that girl (What was her name? Yue?) and wonders if maybe she’s watching them. “Sokka loves you, Toph. He’s just lost in his duty.”

“He had a duty,” Toph cries. “He had a duty as a _father.”_

Zuko shuts his eyes. He knows that Lin and Suyin are playing with Iroh II, down the hall. Izumi’s son is still a newborn, and Toph’s daughters are both understandably enamored. Thinking of those three girls and their parents gives Zuko a headache. Izumi never had the chance to know her mother, and the Beifong girls don’t have a father. He feels a pang of anger at Sokka, because Toph is right. He _did_ have a duty. He knows Toph fought tooth and nail for Sokka to stay, and knows Sokka broke her heart anyway. Knows Sokka broke himself in the process.

But the anger dissipates as quickly as it came; after all, Zuko was once lost, too. “I know.” Zuko says to Toph, the moonlight glittering in a way that strangely calms him. “But even the best of us get lost, sometimes.”

“He’s the best of me,” Toph whispers, “If he can’t find himself, how can I?”

“You don’t need him,” Zuko reminds her.

“No,” Toph agrees. “But I don’t know how to not _want_ him. I don’t even know if I want to _stop_ wanting him.” 

The night sky blankets them again, as if Yue is constricting the sky on purpose so Zuko holds Toph closer. “I know the feeling,” he says. “But family is more than the person you’re in love with.” He places his head on hers. “I’m here, Toph.”

The air around them relaxes. “Me too,” she says, “Until the end of the line.”

The wind blows by.

* * *

_58._

Toph doesn’t talk to her family much these days. Not Su, not Lin, and certainly not _him._ They had all left, one way or another. Either pushed away by her, or walked away themselves. Perhaps the greatest lie of her life was thinking she could have what Katara and Aang had. Family might have been everything, but Toph had rejected everything since her childhood. What made her think she could have the best?

She hears from Katara that Su has made her way towards the South Pole. Toph cannot help the little feeling of relief at the knowledge that her baby daughter seems to be looking for her father. He’d be fifty-eight, now. Toph retires shortly after hearing the news; She tries to reach out to Lin, but both their pride is too strong, so instead she lets Katara and Aang hold her close. Aang hurts her; she can feel the skin on his bones, feel it cracking and breaking, as if life leaves him every day. He’s only fifty-five. It shouldn’t be this way. Toph knows Katara can feel it too, knows that they are living on borrowed time when it comes to their best friend. Still, Toph leaves, traveling to the Fire Nation, where she stays with Zuko for a good year.

He tells her that Suyin writes to him. It surprises Toph, but once she thinks on it, she supposes it makes sense. She’d brought the girls to visit Zuko many times over the years. He was as much of an uncle to Suyin as Aang was.

“Last I heard, Sokka was showing her the ropes in the South Pole.” His voice was getting more gravelly. “I’m actually supposed to head down there next week.”

“Oh?” Toph starts.

“You wanna come?” Zuko asks, sorting through papers.

 _Yes._ “No.” She shrugs.

Zuko sighs, disappointed, but not surprised.

“Let me know if you change your mind.” She hears him write something down.

Toph nods. Zuko is the closest thing she ever had to a brother; he’s her family, one of the only constants that’s never been complicated. She’s more grateful for him than he’ll ever know.

“Do you...” Toph swallows, “Could you read me that letter again?” The words hang heavy in the air.

“Of course.” The shuffling stops as he pulls out the sheets of paper. _“Uncle Zuko,”_ he begins, _“How did a Firebender like you survive this fucking cold? I wake up and I can’t feel my toes…”_

Family is more complicated than Toph ever thought, but as Zuko reads her daughter’s letter, she thinks that maybe she can make this work.

* * *

_69._

Toph knows her name, by now. She knows the moon is full even if no one tells her. In her retirement, she’s been searching for enlightenment. She hasn’t found it, but she is close.

Aang’s death sets her back, but not as far back as she’d originally thought it would. She’d seen him, in the weeks leading up to his death. Had felt the dust of his bones, the feebleness of his skin. Katara could feel it, too. The slowing of his blood. It came slowly, before it came all at once. Aang’s death was not pretty. It was cruel, it was unkind, and it was unfair. A life spent in servanthood, a forfeited childhood, and yet the Spirits still could not see fit to let Aang die in peace.

After the funeral, Toph sits on the cliff, all the way on the other end of Air Temple Island. Toph can feel the way the full moon gives power to the waves, and sight to those who cannot see in the darkness.

It’s how Sokka finds her, head tilted up, listening. She hears his heartbeat, so similar to Aang’s in the years before his death. Toph can feel his skin and bone, and it pains her to think Sokka is slipping away, too.

“There is an absence.” Toph says, mostly to herself, but also to the love of her life. “Even as the new Avatar is born, there is still an absence.” She breathes out, “One in a million, our Twinkletoes.” Yue Bay is silent before her.

“He was the best of us.” Sokka sits down next to her.

Toph nods. The air shifts. It stormed the night that Aang died; as if the universe was in sorrow. She’d felt the shiver of the Spirit World, thrown into disarray for but a moment, as the Avatar Spirit had left Aang and entered the next in line. Aang had died the next half-second later, in a clap of rolling thunder as the earth quaked under Toph’s feet, and as the sky rained torrents at Katara’s head. Grief was a powerful thing, especially in the hands of some of the most powerful benders in the world.

But tonight it is calm, and Toph is more peaceful than she was the last time she saw Sokka. “How is our daughter?” she asks him.

“She misses you,” Sokka admits. “I told her who her father was.” He stiffens, as if bracing himself for her reaction.

“I expected as much.”

“She already knew.”

“I expected as much.” Toph smiles ruefully.

“How is our daughter?” Sokka echoes her earlier words. She knows he’s asking about Lin.

“I don’t know,” Toph admits, sad.

Slowly, as if unsure, Sokka grasps Toph’s hand. She feels a breath of life rush through her body, and all at once, Toph feels at home. “I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.” Toph can sense the crabs on the beach, below them, running to and fro. 

“You’re my family.” Sokka blinks. “Aang tried to warn me, all those years ago. He tried so hard and I ignored him, because I’m an idiot.” The moon glitters.

Toph snorts. “Lucky for you, family is forgiving. Or at least, I’m told it should be.” She sighs. “I should have gone after you.”

“I shouldn’t have left.”

Toph’s mouth forms a thin line. “I don’t think we have much time left together.” It’s a heavy omission, but it’s an honest one.

Sokka pulls her closer, and she knows he’s agreeing. “Don’t leave me,” he whispers, holding her tight.

Toph lets him. “I never did,” she replies, strong. “I am with you. Always.” Toph’s voice is firm. “You should know more than most that those we love are never truly gone.” She looks up towards the moon.

Understanding dawns on Sokka. A breathless laugh blows through his body. “It’s a full moon.” He tells her, kissing the top of her head.

The silence of the bay shifts, a breeze blowing by. She knows Yue is showing them a sign of peace.

“I know.” Toph says. “I can feel it.”

In the moonlight, she holds her family close.

* * *

> _If there's one thing I've learned over the eons,  
>  it's that you can't give up on your family,  
> no matter how tempting they make it. _

**-Rick Riordan.** ****

* * *


End file.
